Anyone need a nose job?

It's been another busy week here on the Coast.

Scott had his mate Jamie and another guy called Spud over from Opotiki for a hunt last weekend. They got six good eating pigs and slayed quite a few smaller ones as well. Scott is pretty happy about the slaying as he has lost quite a few lambs in the last couple of seasons to marauding pigs. He is going to have a big clean up of pigs just before lambing and get a couple of teams of guys and dogs out getting rid of them from the worst affected paddocks. Applications will be accepted from now on by any interested parties! I did laugh though. Scotty isn't the most organised of blokes and so just before they were all about to go out for the first hunt Scott said to me "Dear, have you seen my sticking knife"...I thought to myself "How many wives get that sort of a question thrown at them and know the answer".

Of course every time someone comes to visit there is a tale to tell, and perhaps I should issue a word of advice to anyone planning a pig hunt over here in the near future...mind your dogs around Scott! Spud had brought one of his young dogs over who I thought was a rather nice looking dog, as pig hunting dogs go. He is part Airedale so is red and hairy and I thought kind of handsome. Spud, I am sure, thought I was on another planet commenting on the looks of his dog when really all that is important in a hunting dog is its actual ability. Anyway, the three blokes and all their dogs set off for a hunt on the Saturday evening. They arrived back some hours later pretty pleased with their efforts but giving each other a bit of shit (as you do). Apparently the dog in question has a few "issues" and is a bit of an animal on the pigs (strange phrase to use, I know) and doesn't quit even when all the other dogs have been called off and you're going in to stick to the pig. Scott went in to stick one particular pig and being the rough bugger that he is he ended up cutting a large hunk out of the poor old dog's nose. Spud came home and I was made to look at the poor old dog's nose with Spud lamenting the damage Scott had done to his dog's good looks. It probably isn't good hunting etiquette to cut the other bloke's dog methinks. I am sure Spud will get Scott back one way or another. Should any of you need a nose job done, you will now know where to come to.

Another of Spud's dogs seems to have some issues surrounding the rear end of the pig and is what is known in the trade as a "nut grabber". This dog doesn't only grab the nuts though, apparently he unzips the "purse" with his teeth and then once that job's done goes in and grabs the penis. Gross. However, on reflection, the poor old dog is perhaps wasted on pigs and could be put to better use by the Justice Department giving certain criminals the same treatment. What a genius idea! There was some good news with the dogs. Scott had been given a Collie cross to try on the sheep and cattle. Patch is a really nice natured dog but no good for stock work. Scott had kept him because he thought the dog had quite a nice nature and wasn't sure exactly what to do with him. That problem has now been solved with Patch becoming a pig dog. Scott took him out with Jamie and Spud's dogs and apparently Patch pulled up a pig on his own, more or less. He also spooked a deer which was not ideal but as he's in training it's a win some lose some situation. Scott thrilled to bits and Patches of course now has a reason for existing! I am only hoping that Scott doesn't suddenly decide that he needs more dogs and more equipment. Pig hunting, for those of you that don't know, is now high-tech with the use of GPS collars on the dogs. Of course there is all manner of other assorted paraphernalia for the hunting man to invest (waste) his money on...rip collars, full body protectors for dogs, motorbikes, clothing, spotlights, knives etc. All that money would buy a lot of pork some would say, but of course buying your meat at the supermarket doesn't get the bloke out of your hair for the entire day. There is also the "what you spend, I spend" principle and the "time out you have, is the time out I have" principle...as Charlie Sheen would say its bi-winning!

Jamie left his knife behind and so sent a text to Scott saying could Scott go and retrieve his knife from down the shed. Scott said he'd post it back but Jamie said not to worry about it as apparently Tim (another mate) is coming over shortly for a pig hunt and he will pick it up. Tim is yet to advise us of this, but I am expecting a call any day now. Scott's brother Andy is over from Tauranga this weekend for a deer hunt and there at least two other lots of blokes wanting to come and do the same in the next month...it is of course, the roar. Bring it on...the more the merrier. The payback for me, apart from having a full freezer and some decent company for a change, will be that I get to go away at the beginning of May for a holiday. The Correspondence School are having a camp at Silverstream in the Hutt Valley for five days so I am going to take the kids to it. It's a ten hour (at least) journey one way, but will be worth it I think. Plenty of activities planned the kids, including Jimmy. I won't have to cook, which is a holiday in itself, and we will be able to go and meet all their teachers at the Correspondence School head office in Wellington. Scott, of course, is not coming so I will be undertaking the mammoth ten hour trip with the four kids on my own. Fortunately I am made of stern stuff so I will just have to get on with it. Hopefully I will manage to catch up with a few relatives in the general Wellington vicinity while we are down there and perhaps a spot of shopping?!

Next week is shaping up as a busy one too. After a full weekend with Andy, Sarah and the kids I will need to get myself organised and house cleaned to within an inch of its life for the Board Meeting being held here on Thursday. Of course the event itself will be fully catered by a professional (me). I also have the Correspondence School itinerant teacher visiting on Wednesday, swimming lessons in Gisborne, rugby practice with the kids and goodness knows only what else. Scott's cousin William turned up this morning with a bucket full of kumara and suggested that perhaps he would bring me all the produce in the garden to make some chutneys and relish later today. He got a short sharp shift and was told that perhaps, towards the end of next week, there will be a small window which I can fit making chutney into. What is that they say? If you want something done ask a busy person.

On a final note, I'd like to send a shout out to the Ruatoria Kai Kart. Went there tonight for a feed of fish and chips as I am unwell and couldn't be bothered cooking. I was really impressed. A little old chap tottered up on his two walking sticks. Obviously local, and obviously a regular customer. He said "I'll not have my usual, I feel like a change. I'll have fish, 2 sausages and some chips". A long discussion ensued about what quantity "some" represented. The lady in the Kai Kart told the little old Kaumatua to tottle on back to his vehicle, which incidentally was parked outside the pub, and she would bring his fish and chips over to him. I thought that was pretty neat given that she was the only one working in the Kai Kart and would have to leave it unattended to deliver his meal. As they would say up here "too much youse fullas at the Kai Kart. Ka pai".

Have you got the time?

I know its been two weeks since my last blog, but I have been very industrious in my enforced absence.  

A few years ago we decided to invest in residential property.  Over a period of two years we brought and completely renovated seven houses in the thriving metropolis of Dannevirke.  It was one of those "seemed like a good idea at the time" kind of ideas.  Not only did we manage to renovate them but we also thought we were so shit hot that we could manage them all ourselves as well.  What fools we were.  We have since sold two of them and all but one are managed by a property manager which has cut down the workload considerably.  However, there is always something that needs doing or a problem that needs remedying, which is the reason for the lack of action in the blog.

Our property manager had said that one of the houses was vacant and she thought it could do with a repaint and a tidy up.  Of course we could have got a handyman/painter/DIY guru in to do the work, but rather than pay someone, we decided to do it ourselves, or at least Scott decided that rather than have a holiday in April, we would go away now and do some DIY instead.  This of course meant I had to get the kids' schoolwork up to date before we left, house organised, gear packed, schoolwork for the week or so we were away organised and packed, and so on and so forth, I am sure you get the drift.  Scott had to attempt to organise the members of MENSA (staff) with their tasks for the week and of course pack the wagon with all the DIY kit we would need for our journey south.  We do own a trailer, but Scott decided in his wisdom that given the price of fuel at present ($2.30 a litre in Ruatoria) he would strap a large black box to the roof of the wagon with all the paint and painting equipment in it, rather than waste fuel towing a trailer.  Unfortunately the box bears more than a passing resemblance to a coffin and we received plenty of odd looks and finger pointing on our journey south.  From behind it looked like someone was trying to escape from the Coffin and Scott had suggested that perhaps a couple of rubber fists (think "Borat") sticking out the back would have enhanced the experience for those looking on.  Unfortunately, rubber fists are not something routinely kept around the house so that genius idea had to be put on the back burner.  Plenty of people already refer to us as "The Clampetts" so our mode of transportation will come as no surprise to many.

The Coffin, side view

The coffin, from behind where the addition of rubber fists would have made the difference.

Many wives will of course go on holidays to Tropical Islands in the South Pacific or shopping meccas in main cities.  I, however, had the distinct pleasure of a painting and decorating sojurn in the environs of New Zealand's Scandinavian capital, Dannevirke.  I know how jealous many of you will be starting to feel right now.

We really had no idea what to expect at the rental property and were fearing the worst.  It is always good to prepare for the worst case scenario and then reality always seems a pleasant surprise.  We arrived to find the place more than a little filthy....there was a small amount of human excrement on the walls in one room with the apt description "shithead" written in black vivid on one of the other walls.  One of the other bedrooms had been painted a god awful shade of purple that the tenant had managed to get all over the skirting boards and scocias.  Lovely.  We proceeded to paint aforementioned bedrooms in a calming shade of cream, the entire kitchen received the same treatment.  I will however give you a small piece of advice, never ever scratch your mouth and nose when painting with enamel paint.  It took me three days to remove my cream hitler-esque moustache.  The house is clad in stucco, so we gave the outside a good wash and we are getting a new shed built as well.  The entire task took us five days to complete and the house now looks much more presentable.

There were some real positives to our trip southward, the first being that we got a break from the four holy terrors.  Scott's parents looked after them for us so we did get some adult time, albeit on the end of a paint brush.  We did manage to have a romantic lunch on the front doorstep purchased from the local chinese takeaway.  Scott really pushed the boat out on that one, he even brought me an ice cream one day on the way home.  The kids spent a lovely day wandering around Dannevirke with my parents and going to the pools.  They pushed Grandad Stache all round the streets in his wheelchair and didn't tip him out once, which is always a bonus.  We also managed to catch up with several sets of friends, which was long overdue.  I will of course have to wait for my "holiday" a little longer.

Of course, all good things must come to an end and so we arrived back on the Coast yesterday.   Ruatoria didn't take long before it showed its unique character and what makes it such a funny little place to live.  I called in at the shop to pick up some milk and ran into an old geezer in there who has a speech impediment...his impediment being that he has far too much to say for himself!!  He greeted me by name and unfortunately I was unable to do the same as I have no idea who he is, but he always chats to me like we are soul mates.  He followed me around the store putting things into my basket and giving me a dietary lesson on the benefits of Vogel bread vs "that other shit" (his words).  His advice, for all of you out there choosing bread products, is that you should buy Vogels and "feed it to your kids aye, because then they'll live long enough to support you and give you money".  He updated me on all the local happenings and his philosophy on the evils of money.  He also advised he had been to visit another local who had been unwell recently.  I asked him how the chap was now and whether he was keeping in good health.  My friend replied "oh, he's got himself measured up for a coffin but he's too bloody mean to die".  I left the shop feeling glad to be back and highly amused by my little tete a tete with him. 

Scott experienced a Coastie-ism this morning.  It was about 7.15 am and the phone rang.  Scott answered "Scott speaking" as usual.  The local on the other end said "Is that you Dan?".  Scott replied "No, its Scott Somerville.  Who are you after".  "I'm after Dan" said the guy "You got his number Kill?".  Scott assumed which Dan it was, and said "Yep, I've got his number, hang on a tick".  The PHd holder on the end of the phone says "Yeah bro, I need to phone Dan to see what the time is".  "Right" said Scott.  "You got the time Bro" says our friend.  Scott gave the guy the time of day, as you do, and the guy said "Cheers" and hung up.   Now I am quite sure that conversation would not have taken place had we lived in another location than the Coast.  I only hope that our man finds Dan's number and rings him tomorrow and not us again.  Watch this space!!